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    Ruthless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance: Iron Reapers MC, #3
    Ruthless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance: Iron Reapers MC, #3
    Ruthless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance: Iron Reapers MC, #3
    Ebook107 pages1 hour

    Ruthless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance: Iron Reapers MC, #3

    By Claire St. Rose

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Ruthless is book 3 and the finale of the Iron Reapers MC trilogy!

    She’s a good girl who’s too innocent and pure to know what it means to be around someone like me.


    But this isn’t about what she wants. 
    It’s about what I want.
    And what I want is to wreck the good girl in every way I can.
    Claim her. Use her. Make her mine.

    New Orleans might be the Big Easy, but this girl is anything but.
    I was here on business for my club—the Iron Reapers MC—when Sasha came into my life.

    She’s a good girl surrounded by a city of sin and debauchery.
    She’s so innocent that from the first whiff of her, I couldn’t keep myself away.
    She’s too good of a girl to be wrecked by a monster like me.

    I want to see how far I can push her. How much she can take.
    I want to hear the soft moans from her lips when I pull her close. 

    But I don’t just want to make her moan.
    I want to make her scream.

    Scream to be taken.
    Scream to be used
    Scream to be mine.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereBook Publishing World
    Release dateJan 15, 2018
    ISBN9781386993414
    Ruthless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance: Iron Reapers MC, #3

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      Book preview

      Ruthless - Claire St. Rose

      RUTHLESS: Iron Reapers MC (BOOK 3)

      By Claire St. Rose

      SHE’S A GOOD GIRL WHO’S too innocent and pure to know what it means to be around someone like me.

      But this isn’t about what she wants.

      It’s about what I want.

      And what I want is to wreck the good girl in every way I can.

      Claim her. Use her. Make her mine.

      New Orleans might be the Big Easy, but this girl is anything but.

      I was here on business for my club—the Iron Reapers MC—when Sasha came into my life.

      She’s a good girl surrounded by a city of sin and debauchery.

      She’s so innocent that from the first whiff of her, I couldn’t keep myself away.

      She’s too good of a girl to be wrecked by a monster like me.

      I want to see how far I can push her. How much she can take.

      I want to hear the soft moans from her lips when I pull her close.

      But I don’t just want to make her moan.

      I want to make her scream.

      Scream to be taken.

      Scream to be used

      Scream to be mine.

      CHAPTER 1

      Zane

      THE WAITRESS PLUNKED the coffee down in front of me, splashing some of the black liquid onto the table. Sasha’s concern was written on her features, but she didn’t say anything as her cup was just as unceremoniously clunked down in front of her. After depositing the two cups, Sherri whirled and went to see to her other tables. Without taking our order.

      Do you know her? Sasha asked, dabbing up the spilled coffee with her napkin.

      I snorted. Wish I didn’t. She’s a friend of Asa’s.

      Sasha’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. My comment had done little to shed her unease. One of Asa’s friends? Will she tell Asa that she saw us together?

      I ignored the streaks of coffee left on the table when I pulled my cup to me. Sasha trailed behind with the napkin, apparently anxious about leaving a mess. I didn’t care; if Sherri wanted to be a bitch, she could be a bitch.

      I doubt it, I said. They haven’t talked in years, far as I know. Sherri doesn’t run with the crowd that Asa does anymore, but she’s still pissy at me over our breakup.

      Sasha rolled her eyes and huffed a sigh. That was years ago! I’m beginning to think you’re the only one that is over your break up. She pulled over the stack of creamers and began to load a couple into her mug. She paused mid-cream on the second one and looked up at me. You are over it, right?

      I nodded, not able to slip the smirk off my face. I loved when she got possessive. Yes. I’m over it, Sasha.

      Satisfied, she returned to her coffee, stirring in a couple of sugar packets before bringing it to those perfect lips for a sip. I continued to leave mine to cool down. I liked it black, and it would be awhile before it was cool enough to drink. But I could watch Sasha drink coffee all day.

      Are you nervous? she asked.

      The early morning light filtered in through the diner’s crappy, plastic blinds. It lit up parts of her hair in a vibrant, almost white blonde. The parts that struck her face highlighted the creamy tone of her skin and the alert green of her eyes. She looked just as beautiful in the morning, after a good tousle in the sheets, as she did every other day. I could stare at her all day.

      No, I stated simply. I know what I’m capable of. If there’s somebody there more capable than I, then there really isn’t anything I can do about it.

      She shrugged. That’s a good way of looking at it. She took another sip of coffee, eyes scanning the diner. Is she ever coming back?

      I laughed. Sherri? Not if she can help it. For a girl who left the life because she couldn’t take all the drama, she sure knows how to keep the drama alive.

      Sasha wrinkled her nose in distaste. I’m hungry.

      I know you are sweetheart. I’m just joking; she’ll come back.

      I just wasn’t sure when. If it were any longer than a few minutes, I’d go find her myself. I was hungry too. Sasha had completely worn me out—she had a way of doing that. Not that I was complaining. I would happily starve to death if it meant I got to worship her body from this point to the grave.

      I’m a little nervous, Sasha said quietly, lowering her cup.

      Hearing her say that stirred something protective and dark inside of me. Whatever scared my girl, I wanted to have it taken care of immediately. I would take down the bogeyman himself if it meant her sleeping soundly at night.

      Nothing’s going to happen to me, I said. I’m going to get the money for your mom, and then we’re going to ride off into the sunset like a couple of outlaws.

      She snorted. You have a way of making everything sound so appealing. You’d be a great politician.

      My amused expression was my only answer.

      Sherri came back shortly wearing that same sour look I’d never seen her without the whole time I’d known her.

      How are the kids, Sherri? I asked politely.

      She scowled. What can I get you on this fine, spring morning?

      Sasha stifled a laugh. We placed our orders and watched Sherri swagger off like she owned the place. Maybe she did. I had no idea what she’d been up to in the past few years.

      I kind of like her, Sasha said. I don’t know why she’s so sassy, but I can only assume you deserve it.

      I chuckled. You know, you’re probably right. She was always a bit prickly, anyway. Taking another sip of coffee, I added, She’s probably going to spit in my food though.

      Nah, Sasha replied. I don’t think so. She just talks a big game, but underneath I think she secretly likes you.

      No shit? I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

      Sasha shrugged. She keeps her feet and body angled toward you anytime she comes up. That’s not something she’d likely do if you disgusted her.

      I reached over the table and gave Sasha’s hand a squeeze. You are just such an interesting woman. You know that? I patted her hand and relaxed back against the squeaky polyester seats. I have a good feeling about today. About the future.

      She smiled coyly and dropped my gaze, favoring her cup instead. Her cheeks began to turn pink, a sight I would commit to memory for the rest of my life.

      About our future? she asked.

      I nodded. About our future.

      We arrived at the billiards hall just before the first matches were about to begin. It was a hive of activity, and I could have sworn every hustler on the eastern seaboard was in attendance. There was barely enough room to walk around in the crowded space, and I had to pull Sasha by the hand to make sure I didn’t lose her.

      Some people clapped me on the back as we passed; others glared. It was a mixed crowd. Sasha stuck close behind me, clearly uncomfortable in the den of sharks. I didn’t blame her. If she could read someone just by looking at them, I had just opened up a horror story to her. But she had known the kind of people who would be here, and she had committed to it.

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